


Plucking Your Strings

by MachineQueen84



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Authority Figures, Crushes, Dominance, F/M, Fluff, Height Differences because how can there not be, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Maestro!Sigma, Reader is 21+, Reader is a victorian noblelady, Teacher-Student Relationship, as in i cant believe i finished a work, i picked an outfit for you i hope you like it uwu, its like 1850 something maybe earlier, not super high ranking, siebren more like husband, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen84/pseuds/MachineQueen84
Summary: Set in England sometime during the mid Romantic era, you are an aspiring classical musician. Like most women, you were brought up to learn multiple instruments from a young age. You develop a strange attraction to your new instructor, who seems to favor an entirely different melody than the one he teaches. Yours.
Relationships: Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Intro

uwu I was inspired to write this because there’s another fic on here centered around one of his skins that’s really good. YOU KNOW THE ONE. OK I wrote this really fast as soon as I saw the new skin and let me tell you I was SHOOK when I did. Fancy 1800's boi is a character type I LOVE. He’s already every weakness I have and now THIS? And I connect with him a lot on the panic attacks because of the universe thing lol. 

Uhh reader is definitely 21+, I mean if you’re 18 and want reader you to be 18 that’s cool I just wanna be clear on how I intended to write this but I hc her (you) as 23-24. Sigma also up to you because I KNOW he’s 62 and that's not a problem but BRO he barely looks 50. Sorry for such a random instrument I wanted to pick one that focused on needing to be aware of a lot of things to sound good. And also it's my favorite. 

If you bothered to read this I’m sorry I have no one to talk to about him and my boyfriend thinks I’m crazy. Talk to me about gravity grandpa ( https://machinequeen84.tumblr.com/ ). Reviews are highly appreciated, not because I want the kudos I’m honestly trying to get better as a writer and any feedback would help tremendously <3 Be gentle though :(

Ch.1 is story, Ch.2 will be clean romantic option, Ch.3 will be dirty stuff option MAYBE smut idk depends on what god vons (reviews) say lol

Here's what I see reader wearing in my head I also own this dress so maybe biased: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/63/4b/64/634b645ba70b1aae8af82dbca8769fa6.jpg


	2. Actually Ch.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small glossary:  
> Mijn lieve- My dear  
> Alstublieft- Please  
> Nee (pronounced like nay)- No  
> Opnieuw- Again

Today marked the first day of your harpsichord lessons. You’d been begging your mother to let you learn it as soon as you had started your piano (and violin, and opera) lessons. She claimed that the harpsichord was ‘out of date’ and that young women shouldn’t be playing something so old fashioned. Piano lessons were the closest you had, until last evening. Your mother had surprised you with the promise of new classes starting tomorrow, seeing as you had performed perfectly in a concert with other young women the week before.

You stood at the base of the steps looking up at the massive music hall, crimson day dress whisked askew by a gentle breeze. The arches over the entrance were as grand and gold as they’d ever been. The towering building was somehow still inviting, gold pillars and accents promising of grandeur and beauty inside. Smiling to yourself, you clutched your paper from the director, pulled up the hem of your dress ever so slightly, and walked up the steps. Pushing the tall door open, you slipped inside quietly and allowed it to shut behind you.

You’d been here many times of course, having been taught violin by the conductor, Mr. Whitman for years. Your family was wealthy enough to afford private lessons, but not enough to have a tutor come to your home. So, you took a carriage into town for lessons twice a week. But today felt like it was your first time again. You marvelled at the rich red carpet that ran in every direction through the foyer, and expensive looking ornamental vases with fresh flowers on every flat surface. Crimson cushioned arm chairs and chaises littered the lower floor, and gold touched everything the red didn’t. It felt like a palace, as well as a place of respite to you.

You were directed to a private classroom on the third floor, where you were told Conductor Whitman took his harpsichord students. You knocked on the door, beaming brightly when it opened a few moments later.

“Good afternoon, Conductor!” You chirped, “I’m very eager to be learning under you once… more?” Your smile turned to a look of confusion. Conductor Whitman was a jolly stout man. In the doorway stood a very tall, handsome gentleman with neat grey-white hair and glasses. Your confusion quickly turned to embarrassment.

“Can I help you, young lady?” he questioned coldy, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked quite literally down at you. You collected yourself enough to respond, hoping you hadn’t been staring.

“I’m terribly sorry, I seem to have the wrong room,” you gave a short, polite curtsy. “I’m looking for Conductor Whitman, I’m supposed to be starting harpsichord lessons today..”

The tall gentleman looked almost apologetic just then, putting a hand to the back of his head, “Ah but of course, you must be lady (y/n). I can assure you this is the correct room. Please, do come in.” He moved to the side, holding the door  
open. 

He was adorned in a typical concert attire; pitch tailcoat, crisp white shirt and vest, and creased bow tie. This was slightly odd, as there were no scheduled concerts this evening. Not that you minded, as it suited him quite well, it accentuated his broad shoulders and- goodness you were getting too ahead of yourself!

You stepped into the room, shaking off your own thoughts and looking around as the door was shut behind you. Even though it was just a classroom, the interior was just as sophisticated as the rest of the hall. The room was largely bare save for the harpsichord, a few chairs, and walls lined with books. The heavy damask curtains bunched up to the side of three tall windows allowed sunlight to stream through and illuminate the instrument perfectly.

The man cleared his throat. “I must apologize, the conductor has taken leave to assist an orchestra in Sweden. Their own seems to have fallen ill, if I recall.” He turned to you, hands tucked behind his back. “I am Maestro Siebren de Kuiper, I will be taking over the conductor’s harpsichord lessons until further notice.” You felt a small jolt in your stomach as the maestro reached out, taking your hand and pressing a chaste kiss to the smooth back of it. “And you, dear lady, seem to be my only student.” He said with the faintest hint of a smirk, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You could feel your cheeks tinge pink, and had to fight the urge to turn your head away. “T-The pleasure is all mine, Maestro de Kuiper,” you withdrew your hand slowly. “If you’ll excuse my impertinence, sir, your accent..? Is that, Dutch?”

Siebren smiled, looking pleased, “Very good, mijn lieve. Let us see if you’re as talented as you are perceptive, hm?” He moved to the side of the harpsichord, glossy black shoes clicking against the smooth marble floor, and gestured for you to take a seat at the bench. “I’ve heard you know how to play the piano, yes?” You nodded, seating yourself on the plush cushion.

“Let me hear something then, alstublieft.”


End file.
